I blink and swallow. “Nor did I. I’d been kicked out of two secondary schools by the time I took my leaving certificate.”
“Why?”
“I either skived or turned up drunk. I ended up having to take my exams at an external centre. Not that it helped. I failed.” My gut churns as shame wells up within me. “I managed to get one shitty job after another, but they never lasted long. I wasn’t reliable.”
“Because you were drinking?”
I nod. “I’m lucky my parents supported me. I don’t know why they did. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if they’d thrown me out. Would I have sorted myself out sooner, or would I have died on the streets?”
I glance at Rory long enough to see him clench his fists against his thighs. He’s still looking at the stars. I return my gaze to them too.
“They make me feel small.” I gesture to the darkening expanse of the sky and the multitude of white pinpricks.
“Me too.” Rory’s voice is rough, like he’s trying not to cry.
It makes two of us. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Coming here. Dredging up the past. Making you sad.” I tear my stare away from the stars and fix it on him.
“I asked.” Rory’s chest shudders. “I want to know. But only if you want to tell me. I don’t want to cause you any pain.”
“I’m in pain every day.”
Rory’s fingers twitch. He lifts his hand and moves it towards me before snatching it back and pressing his fist to his thigh once more.
“Sorry,” I repeat.
“Don’t apologise. What changed? What made you decide to stop drinking?”
“Dad fell and broke his hip six years ago. Mam tried to get hold of me, but I was drunk and fucking a lass I’d met in a bar. I didn’t even know her name. By the time I was sober enough to bother checking my phone, Dad had had surgery and was in recovery. But Mam had had to go through all the worry and fear alone. When I finally stumbled into the hospital, hungover and stinking of booze, Mum gave me this look.” My eyes well with tears. “She didn’t say a word. She looked at me, and I knew how much I’d let her down. How much I’d let them both down. What if it had been more than a fall and a broken hip? What if—?”
I clench my teeth and shake my head. I need a moment. My throat is burning, my chest aches, and my emotions are raw. I want to run and hide from this conversation, but I know I can’t. I’m laying myself bare for Rory in a way I haven’t done with anyone. But then, it’s Rory. As a boy, I trusted him more than anyone. It’s why he was the one I told. Not my parents. Not a teacher. Not the Garda. Rory. Somehow, even though it’s been seventeen years, even though Rory is a virtual stranger now, that trust is still there.
He’s silent. Waiting for me to continue in my own time, like the night I broke down on him and told him everything.
“I checked myself into rehab, and for the first time since I told you what Coach was doing to me, I talked about what had happened. Really talked about it. And not just what Coach did to me, but everything after. Moving. Losing you. Throwing away every dream I’d ever had.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It was, but I had to do it. It was the only way to save myself.” My chest burns as I breathe in. “It was a long road. I fell off the wagon more times than I’d like to admit. But eventually, I was sober enough to hold down a job. I went to college and got my SafePass and manual handling certificates, then got myself an apprenticeship as an electrician. That’s how I met Niamh. She was the sister of a lad I worked with. We were together two years before we decided it wasn’t working.”
“I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “It was better to admit it than to stay together and make each other miserable.” I start to swing again, though not high. “I haven’t fully absorbed the news that she’s pregnant yet. That I’m going to be a dad. I’m not ready, Rory. I’ve only just sorted myself out. How am I meant to be responsible for a baby?”
“You’ll be a great dad.”
“I doubt it. I pissed half my life away. I’ll always be one drink from falling off the wagon.”
“Does Niamh know?”
“That I’m an alcoholic? Yes.”
“I meant—”
I shake my head sharply, cutting him off.
